


dar'aruetii

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s07e10 The Phantom Apprentice, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mando'a, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Coercion, No Incest, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Season/Series 07, Spoilers, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) Spoilers, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: Jesse breaks down after his run-in with Maul. Rex will always be there for his brothers.
Relationships: CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	dar'aruetii

Jesse sits on his cot in medical, his legs dangling over the edge, waiting for the all-clear to get up and leave. His wounds are minimal — one or two small scrapes, a handful of blooming bruises on his arms and wrists — but still he shakes. His breath rattles in his chest. Other than that, he remains silent until Rex sits beside him.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. He doesn't look up from the floor.

"It's alright, trooper," Rex says easily, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze the way he always does. "Come on."

Jesse doesn't move. "It's not," he replies. "It's not alright. I gave in."

Rex looks at his brother carefully. "Jesse, he's a Sith. It's not . . . It's not your fault."

Jesse continues to shake. His shoulders turn inward as he brings his hands to his mouth. The small cavern they create makes his shallow, shuddering breaths all the more noticeable. "I told him _everything_." He gasps for breath, biting the inside of his lip, as tears start to run down his face. He makes no effort to wipe them away.

Rex runs his hand up and down Jesse's back. "I know. It's not your fault."

"I couldn't- I couldn't _stop_ him- He was digging around in my head. There was nothing I could _do_."

"I know. You don't have to apologize."

Jesse lets out a broken cry and shuts his eyes, burying them in the heels of his clenched fists. "I'm sorry, Rex. I-I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. N'eparavu takisit- _ni ceta_ -"

Rex pulls Jesse close, holding him tight against his chest. "It's alright, vod."

"N-N'aruetii-"

"Shh. Cuun dar'aruetii, Jesse. Nu draar." His grip on his trembling brother is firm and grounding. "It's okay."

Jesse quickly loses control over his tongue. He returns the embrace fiercely, desperate for comfort and convulsing with each miserable sob wrenched from his chest. He feels like a cadet again; only five or six at the oldest. That was the last time he cried like this. He struggles to regain his composure, but Rex doesn't bother with shushing him or telling him to stop. This isn't Kamino; this is war. And Jesse has held himself together with bactapatches and glue for too long. He chokes on his own breath while Rex rubs his back.

"I-I'm sorry, Commander," he manages after a while as it all dies down.

"Don't be, vod." Rex manages to get the attention of another trooper and gestures for water, then releases Jesse tentatively and hands it off. "I know you. You didn't just give in as soon as things got hard; you did the best you could. That's all I can ask of you."

Jesse nods. "I-I got your armor a-all-"

"Hey, don't worry about my armor. It's just duraplast and paint." He knocks their foreheads together. "You alright?"

Jesse almost smiles. "Will be."


End file.
